


Built for Mercy

by Mango_the_lemon_fox



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Drinking, Fluff, Gun Violence, Kidnapping, M/M, Multi, Murder, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-04
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24544690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mango_the_lemon_fox/pseuds/Mango_the_lemon_fox
Summary: Logans life was built on certainty. He was certain he would grow up to be some sort of high earning surgeon or radiologist, pediatrician at worst. He was certain as he strolled past his fellow students, listening to incomprehensible chatter, he would always feel like an outsider looking in; And he was certainly certain he’d never fall in love. Those were just the certainties he’d known since he could know. Then his cab driver suddenly swerved left instead of right, and for once in his life, he was plagued with uncertainty.
Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 4
Kudos: 76





	Built for Mercy

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for the sander sides amino awhile ago, thought I’d post it on here as well. :)

Logans life was built on certainty. He was certain he would grow up to be some sort of high earning surgeon or radiologist, pediatrician at worst. He was certain as he strolled past his fellow students, listening to incomprehensible chatter, he would always feel like an outsider looking in; And he was certainly certain he’d never fall in love. Those were just the certainties he’d known since he could know. Then his cab driver suddenly swerved left instead of right, and for once in his life, he was plagued with uncertainty. 

“Sir, this is not the right way.” 

“I know” 

When one realizes they may be part of a crime, they’re instantly hooked, roughly knocked out of any daydreams, summoned from a dissociative abyss, and thrown down the rabbit hole of reality. It’s like when you get past the first 10-50 pages of a book and you start getting invested in the plot, except this wasn’t a book, and Logan was being driven into the unknown as hidden terror rocked his very soul.

At first he tried to reach for his phone (to call the police), hand meeting the bump of linen where his device lay beneath, snuggled up in a tight pocket. Though, these advances stopped when his steel brown eyes noticed the edge of a pistol peeking out of the driver’s own pocket, held firmly in a nest of denim. 

The cab jostled as it turned off from the main rode into a thinner, less maintained street, tall city buildings towering overhead. Logan had only been living in the city for a month, mostly spending time in his dorm or the local coffee shop as he waited to finish his first year at Crofters college, so he was completely unfamiliar with the area, and this drive he made him feel like he had been stranded on a desert Island. 

“Where are you taking me?” Logan asked with that trademark apathy, robotic sternness.

“Where scum like you belong.” The driver huffed, his voice raspy, likely from the recently noticed pile of cigarettes clogging the man cup holder.

“I see.” Logan breathed slowly, breaking into a wafer thin sigh as he formed a calculated frown. Logan didn’t want to push the man as despite an inherent desperation for knowledge he had never been good at getting it out of people, guess he was born with his silver tongue rusted. 

“All you rich an stuck up little brats think your better then everyone caus your old folks got money…I have to fight to survive and then my coworker’s little idiot just gets to walk around like he is some sort of chosen one. Well I’m tired of it, I’m going to make a difference unlike mindless dolts like you...And rest assured, this will be your last cab ride…” the man rambled on and on, none of it coherent or logical. It was sort of like Logan was the man’s therapist, maybe that was the point, the man only able to vent out to someone he was sure would never see the light of day. Logan wasn’t sure if that was sad or an expected reality?

But, whatever the answer to such a question was, wasn’t important, for Logan realized he might die, and worst of all he didn’t know how to feel. Maybe he should feel sad, sad he hadn’t been able to accomplish all those wonderful dreams his parents had set out for him, sad he’d never get to walk through the door on his first day of work, sad he’d never get to feel the joy of true success. Yet, even though he wanted all those things and was at least deep down sad about the thought of them never happening, he felt an even greater sadness for something..something he couldn’t quite place.

“So, what’d business did you have at the pub, seems odd for a star student like yourself ?” The man gurgled as he gripped the leather esc steering wheel in his course driving gloves. The more he spoke the more Logan noticed that behind that chalkly cough was a slight accent, maybe british, Logan wasn’t sure. It was interesting really, behind all that smoke and snarl was a voice, just like behind that man was a gun, and behind Logan’s forced calmness, was someone who was going to die. He was going to die.

“I was picking up my roommate.” Logan answered curtly, it was the same voice he spoke for every interview, the tone that singed each debate, the breath he inhaled when he spoke to his classmates whose faces he couldn’t bother remembering.

“Are you close?” The man asked, it was an arranged question, asking ones hostage the same kind of small talk one would have with a cashier at a supermarket.

“No, I’m not one for friends.” Logan said plainly.

“Oh I see.” The man laughed heartily, muddy boots ramming into the breaks as he pulled around an overflowing truck. “You kids these days, thinking success is some sort of replacement for fixing your troubles. Heh, money may one day grow on trees but people who care about you sure won’t.” 

“There is no ‘one day’ for me..” Logan said sternly. “You’re going to kill me.”

Then the car went silent. 

“Oh, right.”

As the car rattled on, passing by unknown roads, hidden alleys, and rubbled streets, Logan found himself once again sinking into his thoughts. Trying to live together the uncanny sadness he felt burn in his throat, hitch his steady breathing, what was wrong with him? Maybe it was the fear of death, the fear of all the many things he may have not wanted to experience yet still would never be able to. 

His thoughts then wandered to those ‘would never be able tos’ what were they, he leaned back in his seat, resting in uffish thought. He would never be able to stand in the hall and gossip about whatever gossipers gossip about; He would never be able to fall apart in someone’s arms, sobbing till dusk forced their embrace to break solemnly apart; And he would never ask anyone to the upcoming spring dance. 

Who would he have asked anyways? 

He knew a few people, but he did spend quite a lot of time with his two roommates. Maybe he’d ask one of them, he and Janus could waltz across the floor, the perfect cocktail of awkward and tryhard; Or he could ask Remus, they could spend the the whole dance talking about all the vile things they could have been doing instead, but if Logan was lucky, maybe they would end up walking home under a sea of stars and Remus would share his strangely infinite knowledge of the constellations.

Yet neither of those options felt right, of course they didn’t feel right in the fact that he’d never do them, but they also didn’t feel right in the way that going with either one felt like completing only half a puzzle.

Maybe he’d of asked both of them

That, that was a even stranger notion to Logan, stranger than that rustic aftertaste whenever Remus’s decided it was his turn to the make the two breakfasts, stranger than when Deceit decided to end a friendly argument with a hiss, and stranger then the situation he’d found himself in, ok maybe not that strange. 

Yet the more he thought about it, hand holding tightly onto the worn seat belt, the more it’s ‘strangeness’ turned to fondness. 

He didn’t do ‘love’, but if he did, that didn’t sound too bad.

He could even imagine them getting ready for the dance, he would be dragging his feet as per any social event.

“Oh don’t be like that Lo, dances aren’t that bad.” The man dressed in yellow smirked as he straightened his blue tie, gloves hand sweetly pressing out the wrinkles in his dark blue suit. 

“Yeah, especially when someone spikes the punch and these things start to get..” The other man dressed in green paused for dramatic effect, that goofily serial killer smile plastered cleaning across his uncannily pale face. “Interesting.” He smiled, tone growing a bit more cynicism as the single streak of grey in his hair grew a ghostly white. “I’ve actually got some liquor under Jans bed.” He added devilishly as he walked through the messy dorm room to retrieve such liquor. 

“No ones spiking the punch dear, especially not you” The man Logan had come to the fortune of knowing as Janus, chastised as the man dressed in green grumbled. 

“Yes adding any substances especially alcohol to the schools punch would be illegal and could at worst result in a hefty amount of jail time.” Logan said dryly.

“You two dorks don’t have to gang up on me.” The man known as Remus and a multitude of nicknames, frowned as he walked away from Janus’s bed with some more intelligible angry mumbling.

“Were only worried.” Janus smirked as he pulled Remus in for a half hug as his other hand had found itself intertwined with Logan’s. It was odd really, a chance of a lifetime that three very different, but equally socially estranged misfits had found themselves together. Janus, an impulsive liar; Remus who was crude and a fan of dark comedy; And Logan, who’s awkwardness had the unfortunate quality of coming off as apathetic; All different sides of the same three sided coin.

But of course Janus wasn’t worried, Remus wasn’t upset about not spiking the punch, and Logan wasn’t nervous about going to the dance, since none of that ever will/would happen, It was all in the mind of a man, who was going to die. Logan was going to die.

Logan leaned his head against the ashy window, looking out into the sunny streets, cars engaged in endless chases, pigeons stealing sandwiches, kids staring into the displays of sweet shops. It was like he was a lion in a cage, and they were mindless observers. But the cage of the car had become nothing to Logan as he was far too caught up in the cage of his mind.

What would happen at the dance? He’d probably mostly dance with Janus whilst they both occasionally tried to convince Remus to stop twerking. Though he and the trash man would get in at least one dance when the music was blasting far too loud, as Janus teasingly critiqued their moves. 

And the more Logan imagined it, the more it just felt so real, so natural, a tantalizingly unattainable dream.  
Just a dream.

But..  
The click of tupperware as the three settled down to eat one last meal before their first big science exam, the unappealing look of those far-to-yellow roses Deceit insisted on placing in the dorms bathroom, the still present smell when Remus accidently set his bed on fire. Those were all just memories between roommates, he didn’t care for them, he didn’t treasure them, he didn’t even think about them. He didn’t like his roommates.

These were just thoughts he told to himself

Just ideas to entertain his mind he lied to himself 

He didn’t do ‘love’ he insisted to himself 

But what if he did?

“We’re here.” The driver growled as the taxi came to an abrupt halt. They had been driving for quite some time so as Logan was dragged out into the late twilight he only caught a few blurry glances of his surroundings: A misty apartment building, what looked like some sort of rundown laundromat that’s roof had been repurposed to be some sort of barbecue destination as it was covered in grills and fairy lights, and a collection of beaten up tires sitting next to an overflowing dumpster.

“Lets go kid..” Logan’s kidnapper concluded, he said it almost gently, as if it were the end to some sort of haiku about butterflies or something.

“Alright…” Logan said with a muddled frown.

What would it be like to kiss them? The feel of his and Janus’s lips locked placidly, his hand silently cradling the right side of the liar’s face that was covered in a blotchy birthmark. 

Lips interlocked with Remus’s as for once in a millennium the man was quiet. An unmatched lucidity surrounding them. 

But all of that was irrelevant, even for a man as himself faced with a whole new world of questions, who’s certainly had been torn down and rebuilt on please for mercy.

For as the moon began to sing a lowly hymn

a gunshot fired through the darkness.


End file.
